I don't want to say goodbye

Last Friday, when I flew up to see my sister we had what I've come to dread - the Family meeting. This is when Sister's medical team requests to meet with the family to provide an update on her progress and talk about the next steps of her care. It's never good news. It's never a time to celebrate and high-five each other. But my brother-in-law requested they hold off for a day and have it on Friday so I could attend. I truly appreciated being included though, as I mentioned, I've quickly come to hate these meetings. Unfortunately, the meeting was what I thought it would be. Her medical team asked us what we thought she would want. Because the best outcome they predicted, based on her lack of responsiveness, her tests and scans, was that she would be able to hear and maybe be able to see but she would not be able to process what she was hearing or seeing. 

All our hearts broke again.

We were all holding onto hope that her brain would recover from her strokes and that she just needed more time for the swelling to go down. But it seems there is too much damage from her initial stroke and then all the small ones she had while in the hospital. She had just gone through too much and that is why she was no longer responding to anything but pain. It was decided that her care would change from life-saving to comfort care after close family and friends said their goodbyes. 

We flew our mom up Saturday afternoon to see DD for the first time in the hospital and also to say goodbye. Our mom had recently been in the hospital herself late last June and we didn't want mom to put herself in unnecessary danger. We figured that we would wait until sister moved from ICU to Acute Care and then both would be a bit stronger to see each other. My sister, when still responsive, had held up her hand in a "wait" or "stop" position when we mentioned mom wanted to visit her. Knowing how anxious and worried my sister gets around our mom, it made sense that she made that motion. And her husband, knowing my sister the best, also felt it was the best decision for both of them. Our mom still desperately wanted to visit but without anyone helping her book flights, hotel or transportation, it would have been impossible for her to do it herself. So she waited. 

As expected, it was very difficult for our mom to see DD with a breathing tube, IVs, her head shaved and, most of all, knowing this visit was so she could say goodbye to her daughter. My mom and I went straight to DD from the airport. We stayed just before visiting hours were up. I had booked us a hotel room less than 10 minutes away so we took an Uber there. It was the first time in a long time since I spent the night in a room with our mom. Notorious for being loud, she did her best to be quiet so I could rest. I really appreciated her efforts even though neither of us got much sleep that night.

We joined my brother-in-law in the morning to visit with my Sister again. They were allowing up to four visitors and appreciated that her other visitors wanted to give me and my mom visiting time, along with my sister's husband and son. Whenever one of us needed a break, there was a family member or friend ready to step in. There were also others who visited specifically to say goodbye so we wanted them to have their time with DD, too. And around 2:45 PM, we were allowed to have six of us gathered around as my sister's nurse and respiratory therapist removed her IV and breathing tubes. We all cried and continued to sit around her. My mom and I had to say goodbye in the early evening so we could make our flight home. We hated to leave her.

We had no idea when she would leave us. Her nurse said it may be a day or so. It is now five days later and she is still here. This saddens me greatly because it just goes to show how strong my sister's body is. It's only her brain that isn't allowing her to be with us. But it's the one that matters most - over her heart, lungs, and kidneys. I have cried every day since returning and am thankful to my brother-in-law for his calls and online updates. I can only imagine how hard this has been for him. I know he is grateful for anytime he has left with her but I also know this very long goodbye has to take a toll both physically and mentally. Because he knows that she will eventually go. And I mourn for her now because even though she is still with us, she also isn't. This is the longest I've gone without speaking to her and I'm so so sad that I won't ever get to talk with her again. 

A rollercoaster

 This is the 3rd time I'll be going to Seattle this month. Before my sister's stroke, the last time I was in Seattle was for my nephew's - her son's - high school graduation in 2018. Before then, it was sometime before The Bean's birth so before 2014 because I only had one baby then. Because of my babies and our parents' limited mobility, DD often traveled down to see us. She would come when our parents were sick or if I needed help. Or for holidays, special occasions, or funerals. 

Two days ago, I thought I was going to say goodbye to my sister. It has been a tough 22-now-23 days. Just about every day my brother-in-law calls with updates. And almost every day, it feels like it's one step forward, two steps back. Because I'll hear that she had a good day, a boring day, and we rejoice in the ordinary of it all. Then on other days, we hear find out she had a setback or that she isn't progressing as they'd like. Most recently, a doctor told my B-I-L that they were not confident my sister would wake up. 

In the past 23 days, my heart has broken over and over again. I have imagined the best and I've imagined the worst. The best is her needing major rehabilitation and it's bizarre to think that 23 days ago, that was the worst. One month ago, our mom being in the hospital with pneumonia and the flu was the worst. Two months ago, it was me not knowing what to do with my career. It's incredible how perspectives can change in an instant. 

My husband has been a rock for me. He has tried to alleviate some of the responsibilities I have as a parent (he has an awful commute so I take care of all transportation to and from school and activities for our kids, as well as meals). He's also the one who gently but firmly has made sure I'm taking care of my health since my sister had undiagnosed high blood pressure and diabetes. He also has assured me that I can talk to him about all of this so I don't have to keep it bottled up inside. 

He told me it seems like I'm taking my sister's crisis much harder than my father's death. I loved my dad very much. He was one month shy of turning 82 years old yet it was still a surprise to all of us when he passed. His passing was very quick, less than 24 hours. It was my mom who had been in the hospital for several weeks just before he passed. I told my husband that while I really missed my dad, I also knew that the body he was living in frustrated him. I knew he hated being frail and having to spend so much time getting dialysis. He was frustrated by his physical limitations and didn't like depending on other people to help him. I took comfort in knowing that he was finally free. 

My sister is only 57 years old. Again, perspective is a funny thing. When I was a kid and even a young adult, 57 seemed ancient to me. Now I know there is so much more potential life left, decades in fact. Her son is 22 years old. We didn't talk about it much (I think we didn't want him to feel rushed and, honestly, he IS pretty young) but I know she looked forward to his wedding and him having children. As for me, I was looking forward to the time when I had fewer obligations and could visit her again like I did in my 20s. Visiting her was so peaceful - it's where she taught me how to knit and entertained my interest in going to all the local coffee shops to find the best coffee. And finding places that potentially made the best oatmeal. We would knit and drink tea or coffee and chat. Or take walks. I cherished those times and, just like how I felt about going to Hawaii with my girlfriends, I looked forward to the time when I could make those visits with her again. 

We are never promised tomorrow, I know. But when going through the day-to-day, one can't help but get pulled into the daily routine and think that one day in the future, we can look forward to the things we want to do. And I unwisely assumed that my sister would always be there because she always had been. Since I was born. So her life hanging in the balance is shocking to me. It's something I've never imagined. And it's devastating. I cling to hope and sometimes wish I didn't because when I hear that she may not ever be with us, I am gutted. And this has happened over and over again. But as my B-I-L has written, where this is life, there is hope. And my sister continues to breathe on her own. So I pray throughout the day that she will wake up soon, whole and healthy.

A love letter to my Sister

The two posts before were drafts that I hadn't realized were never published. It's been a long time since I've been here. What brought me back to this little place was seeing my Sister's blogspot on her FB page. Though she hadn't written anything since September 27, 2011, she still had it listed. We both started writing in 2005 and it was just one way for us to keep in touch.

My Sister is fighting to stay with us right now. She had a hemorrhagic stroke almost three weeks ago and our lives have forever changed. At first, I was devasted to hear that she would lose mobility on her right side and possibly her speech, though they said she may be able to gain it back. But in the past three weeks, she has had many ischemic strokes while in ICU, a craniectomy, and other setbacks along the way. Who would've thought that losing mobility and speech would be the best-case scenario?

I turn to this little place because it's where she and I would "talk" through our writings. And I've been praying so much for the past three weeks that maybe this is another form of prayer. 

My Sister is one of the best people I've ever known. She was like a second mom to me when I was growing up. She is 13 years older and gave me the attention and patience that my parents didn't have. They were great parents but they were busy ... and tired. My sister would play with me, braid my hair, take me with her to school, shopping trips, friends' homes, fun outings - she was just a great big sister. I remember having classmates who were jealous of how nice my sister was to me because theirs were mean and made them feel like a pest. Not my sister. She always made me feel loved.

And as I grew up, that never changed. She always encouraged me to visit her and made time for my sporadic calls. My sister came for long visits after I birthed each baby to help and just be there for me. She did the same for our parents when they fell sick, or when our mom wanted to go to the Philippines but didn't want to leave our dad alone. My sister came and kept him company. Even though he resented having what he called a "babysitter", we know he enjoyed her company. Because my sister is sweet and kind. She is so happy making other people happy. She finds joy in bringing joy to others. She's just an incredible human being. That's why I don't understand why she is in a hospital right now. I don't understand why someone so wonderful, kind, and giving is suffering. 

I know miracles can happen and I keep praying for them. But I'm also incredibly sad and frustrated by all the challenges that keep coming her way. The world is a better place with her in it. I am certain of that. The lives she touches are better for her being in it. She and I used to lament how some people couldn't stand how happy we are as individuals. Admittedly, I think I'm saltier than her. A little more jaded, a lot more attitude. My sister can't help but beam sunshine. She's really that good. She has the biggest heart. So I continue to pray that she can pull through. That she can come out whole and healthy. Because I love her so, so much.

Part of August, in a nutshell 8/22/15 9:28 PM

Reunion: Vegas and Zion 8/22/15 9:33 PM

The last time I wrote here, popular social media platforms didn't exist yet.

 It's 2021 and holy crap, a lot has happened. Kids, in a snapshot ...

- mom started her doctoral program in Aug 2019

- Papa passed away in Nov 2019

- Pili passed away in July 2019 (it was an awful year, to be honest)

- Then the world shut down Feb/Mar 2020 because of a global pandemic (some of us thought it was going to last six weeks. It lasted for over a year and is still continuing but we're not completely shut down like we had been).

- Nana had three major non-scheduled surgeries and one scheduled open heart surgery during the pandemic.

- I left a job I loved because the toxicity was overwhelming.

- I started a new job during a pandemic while continuing to work my way through my doctoral program (I planned to potentially start looking upon graduating but life is funny)

- I've deleted social media apps on my phone to help me focus. So of course I resurrect my blog! But I need an outlet for my random thoughts (or daily musings, if you're fancy).

To the little but all-consuming loves of my life

To The Bun and The Bean,

It’s been so long since I’ve written here because there has been no time. Well, scratch that. I haven’t made time because there are so many other things that are more important – including you two! I think I was also disheartened to see that all the photos I’ve posted no longer work:( How can I stroll down memory lane when the photos have disappeared? Ah well.
Anyway.
I’m in my 4th year of my j-o-b. Kids, this might not mean anything to you until much later. Like, when you’re gainfully employed. But I’m so very thankful to have a job that I enjoy tremendously and has afforded me the best commute in my career. I am about 20 minutes from home and while it is too far to go home for lunch, it’s nice to work so close to home.
Ava, the proximity of my job enables me to volunteer at your school every-other-week. It means so much to me to have you know that you’re important to me. I don’t care to hold a PTA position because I want to volunteer in roles in which you can see and talk to me. I want to know the kids in your class and see how they interact with you. I want to see you eat snack and know that I packed enough in your lunch box.
 Oh, that lunch box. I think that you think I don’t want you to buy school lunch because I don’t want to spend the money. That’s partially true. If it was a truly nutritious school lunch, I would be OK with it. But I know it’s not that good for you. And if you’re going to have a “not that good for you” lunch, well then I can pack that for you! But I aim a little higher most days;) I’m not a natural chef but I want to know that you have enough food for snack and lunch. I want you to know that maybe you can’t tell right now, but it’s how I show I love you.
On that note, I’m sorry that I snap at you sometimes. Or that I seem irritable. I hope that’s not what you remember most of me. I was telling a colleague that you and I have different personalities but there are enough similarities that cause us to knock heads. But I hope you always know that you are absolutely my favorite girl in the whole wide world. You are so beautiful, inside and out, that I am in awe that you came from us. You are so special and I hope you know that I feel that about you.
As for you, Mister … oh, Evan. You are a feisty little thing! You are so LOUD. And that statement is coming from a loud person! You challenge me and push me but you know what? I am thankful every day that you’re a Mama’s Boy. And I hope you stay one forever. Oh my goodness, do you know that when I give you this serious “You’re in trouble” look, you break out into a big smile and then laugh?! And then I laugh because I can’t believe that my look has NO effect on you except to make you laugh.
Last month, Evan, we transitioned you from Monique’s home day care to a preschool. Well, you were in the 2-4 year old section which is technically a day care but they are officially a preschool. We put you in twice a week with the intention of having you go four times a week. You hated it:( You cried so hard when I left you and then you cried with relief when I picked you up. That was something new for you – I’d never seen you be so relieve to see me you cried.
I was torn. I knew the preschool was just lovely. Ava had attended the same preschool when she was 4 years old. But it was different for you and me. I didn’t like that couldn’t tell me what made you so sad. I didn’t like that I had to leave you bawling. I didn’t like that you got hurt on your second day even though I know it was perfectly innocent. But all these signs were telling me that this just wasn’t the right time for you. If we didn’t have your Nana to take care of you, maybe we would’ve just waited for you to get used to it. And even though it’s very inconvenient to take you to Monique’s, we have to do what’s best for you.
At two years old, I think you just crave that personal attention. You are the only baby at Nana’s as well as Monique’s and it was obvious when I heard you would follow around one teacher the entire day, you needed that one-on-one attention. Sure, some people said you would eventually adapt. But you know what? You’re only going to be two once in your life ... I just want to let my baby be a baby. So I pulled you out of preschool and we’ll revisit the idea in a year or maybe two. But can I just say that you, my son, do not shed a tear now when you go to Nana and Papa’s or Monique’s. It’s like you realized how good you have it now:)
I do really like my job. But I look forward to Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks when I am off work and we get to sleep in and hang out. I also know that by the time those breaks end, I’ll be itching to go back to work. But I long for those moments of us lounging in the morning and taking our time to start our day.
I love being your mama, kids. I really do. I love you both higher than the sky and bigger than the world.

Xoxo,
Mama

Uh, hello? Is this thing on?

I feel like I should write out Adele's lyrics to "Hello". I think this is the longest gap of time I've had between posts. Would you believe me if I told you that I've thought about this blog at least a couple times a week? But when I would eventually get a pocket of time, I just didn't feel like writing. I thought of various things I wanted to be sure to write down so I wouldn't forget. But then, wouldn't you know, I forgot what they were. But it never occurred to me to just let this go and walk away. I'm stubborn that way. Right there, I can of so much I want to write about. I want to start writing personal letters to The Bun and The Bean so they can read it later and know what their mama was thinking ... and that maybe she really isn't that cray-cray. She just has a lot to think about that they didn't know about. I want to maybe even write letters to The Man but that's a little more sensitive because, well, those are very personal thoughts that most likely have to deal with conflict or relationship complexities. Essentially, not all cupcakes and roses:p I want to write about what my one word is for 2016, when I chose it, and how I'm going to use it to reframe my thoughts and actions so I can be a better self, wife, mama, daughter, sister, friend, professional and overall human being. I want to write about how my daughter wrote me a beautiful note with misspellings but so much wiser beyond her years, how it gave me pause and how it was a wakeup call that I was not doing things as well as I thought I was. And, shockingly enough, although it was something I have been fixated on for years, it was sort of an almost afterthought it this rambling of things I want to make sure to write about - I finally, finally reached my weight goal. How it happened and how I feel now. I must say that even though it was the last thing I thought about it when it came to things I want to write about in my blog, this was incredibly hard, and even though I am by no means a skinny minny (I will always be curvy unless I get very ill), I feel healthy and good, inside and out. Guess I should get started writing, right? Well, the 30 minutes that I took to write this has now eaten into my morning schedule and I'm now a half hour behind in getting myself, The Bun and The Bean ready. I'll leave you (well, really ME b/c this blog is read by only me) w/ two things that have captured perfectly what I struggle with on a daily basis. I know I'm not the only one but I can only speak for myself. There's a video of Jada Pinkett Smith that has gone viral b/c she talks about the challenges of finding balance in taking care and being responsible for herself, her husband and her children as well as fulfilling her dreams while helping her children and husband fulfill their dreams. It is a very good video and what she said spoke to me. http://omeleto.com/219456/ It also reminded me of an interview that really resonated w/ me regarding a woman CEO saying women can't have it all. And that you have to cope, know you are doing your best, or you will die of guilt. So I thought I would repost that article, in case anyone else, man or woman, struggles with balance. When I posted it on FB, some of my friends thought it was depressing. I found it to be the opposite. It made me feel that if this incredibly intelligent and successful woman is struggling, I don't feel so terrible about struggling with this, too. http://www.theatlantic.com/business/archive/2014/07/why-pepsico-ceo-indra-k-nooyi-cant-have-it-all/373750/

Happy 1st birthday!

I MEANT to post this on your birthday, exactly one month ago on your birthday! I even uploaded it on that day. Oh, I have the best intentions. Life is just so busy. Superbly blessed, but b-u-s-y!

My little mister. My Coffee Bean.  (I nicknamed you that because you kept me up my entire pregnancy! Thank you for being a good sleeper like your sister and letting me make up for all those hours I was awake while pregnant.) Happy 1^st Birthday! A whole year has flown by.

Just like with your sister, I don’t know where the time goes. You two are growing up so fast.

I remember being pregnant with you. I remember telling your Daddy, “There isn’t enough room for both of us! I feel so FULL. There just isn’t enough room!” (My stretch marks say otherwise.) I loved taking pictures with your sister and you in utero because I could see us both grow as your due date drew closer.

You are an incredible baby. You are so sweet, serious, yet silly and fun. You are extremely cuddly. You are super duper handsome (you look just like your Daddy. When he calls you handsome, it’s almost narcissistic!;) You are a big boy – and not just the Asians say this. I can’t believe such a big baby came from me.

You bring out the best in all of us. You make me a better mama, your Dad a better daddy and your sister a better sister. I can't explain it, you just do. I guess it's because you prove that love isn't like a cup of water. That it is capable for us to love even more than we already did. You are such a blessing to us.

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